For example, I know I need a break when Dad holds up one of two dozen fresh figs, newly-purchased from CostCo, and says, "Here eat this! It's delicious!" and all I can say is, "No, and stop telling me what to do!"
Or when Mom toddles into my room, whimpering and whining, and says, in a panic, "Where are all of my clothes!? Somebody took all of my clothes!" and all I can say is, "Wh...wh.....WHAT?! (because, of course, all of her clothes are in her closet where they've always been, and what's really happening is that Mom is having.....uh......one of her moments.....again.).
Or when Dad asks me, like he did this morning, if I've seen that "great new movie that just came out. That one with..." And I cut him off mid-sentence with an emphatic "NO!" because I KNOW he's about to ask me about Julia Roberts' new yet-another-Hollywoodized-book-to-screen-superstar-vehicle flick, "Eat, Pray, Love." (Dad idolizes Julia Roberts. He wastes no time at all in telling me, whenever the opportunity arises, like this morning, how much "CH-arisma" she has (and yes, he ALLways pronounces the "CH" like......like in....."CHAINSAW." He knows it presses my buttons. And, while I greatly admire Ms. Roberts as a person, the mere thought of having to see that enormous mouth of hers on any screen one more time, and/or hear that spine-jarring guffaw-like laugh of hers one more time, makes me want to eat my own eyeballs.)
These are examples of signs that I need a break. That my reservoir of patience is nearly empty. That my threshold for unconditional understanding has been passed.
But never fear. My brothers are both scheduled for rescue visits within days of this post. AND.......I just scheduled an all day whale-viewing boat excursion out of Friday Harbor for next Monday.
Thank god my eyeballs are safe....for a while.
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